Vengeance Pass by Lance Howard

Author:Lance Howard [Lance Howard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780719806131
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Swelling over the horizon, the brassy sun foretold another day of hellfire heat. Already sweat trickled down Hannigan’s face and dampened his palms. He squinted at the trail ahead, slowing the roan into an easy walk.

He shifted in the saddle, a hint of a frown touching his lips. A litany of aches and pains plagued his rangy frame after last night’s face-off with Skeeter, but at least this time he had the satisfaction of knowing the hardcase would never bother him or Tru again. Still, it seemed little consolation.

He sighed, discouragement washing over him. Two hardcases dead, each having done their damnedest to kill him, yet still no real lead to Johnny Laredo or Abby Parsons’ killer. Maybe Laredo really was a myth. Maybe Abby’s murder had been a random thing, unrelated to his mission, and the killer had moved on.

Or maybe those hardcases trying to kill you and Tru says you’re closer to something than you think, Hannigan.

Had Skeeter attacked Tru as a warning for Hannigan to back off? That’s the only reason he could see.

Too many intangibles; it made his nerves tighten with frustration. That’s why he had saddled up with first light and set a course to the Parsons place, prepared to put his manhunter skills to the test. Perhaps he had missed something. Perhaps more clues existed than a blood splotch under a rug. Barter had distracted him from further search yesterday. This morning he aimed to rectify that.

He slowed the roan as the trail opened. Lifting his hat an inch, he pulled the bandanna from his neck and mopped at his sweat-greased brow, then tucked the bandanna in a pocket. His gaze roved across the land, seeking any sign of menace. The woodland appeared still, the silence broken only by the cheerful singing of morning birds and the rustle of small animals skittering through the brush. A sweet musky aroma scented the air. Distant clouds darkened the Rockies, their bloated bellies promising rain, which would provide a welcome relief from the heat but spell ruin to any chance of reading sign.

He urged the horse in closer, surveying the homestead. No sign of life there. Everything appeared deathly still.

Nooo! Don’t shoot!

A prick of memory again, the darkness of his past taunting him, knowing he was too exhausted to fight it off entirely.

He cringed as the force of the image of him shooting an innocent man surged into his mind.

‘Damn …’ he whispered, a chill shaking him, despite the heat.

He wished to hell he could outrun that day. But he couldn’t. It was part of him now, a bitter black beast that stalked his soul. Yet it was also a crucible, one that had burned away the brash arrogance of youth, forged him into what he was now. A man who had made a mistake and paid for it every day of his life since; a man who delivered vengeance.

The way he would for that banker. The way he would for Tru Parsons.

He came from his

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